She’s stronger than all of them now.
She’s laughing, scaling the miserable apartment building where she lives as her nails punch holes in the side she can climb with. There’s screaming in the distance and the roar of sirens but none of it bothers her. She’s stronger than all of them now.
They don’t matter, and even if they did, they couldn’t stop her.
Shots ping against the brickwork around her and she glances back. Some of the stupid little guards are firing at her, trying to shoot her down before she can reach the top. Stupid.
She digs her hands into the building, shoveling brick and concrete and building material out of the building and down onto the police cars far below. A terrific crash reaches her still-human ears and she resists the urge to let out a cackle of glee.
But as she reaches with another hand to try and clamber a bit further, another shot rings out. It misses her by an inch, pinging against the brick she’s holding and-
-the brick dislodges, just enough that she loses her balance.
And then she falls. The sensation of falling always scared her, and now invulnerable and unstoppable as she is, it still does. The world spins as she falls, as she claws at the air with fingers that could cut steel, as she kicks with legs that could shatter bones. Panic surges through her, so sudden and forceful she barely even notices that as she flails her iron nails are tearing against her own body. Ripping strips of metal from her legs and torso as she falls, falls, falls.
She hears the final crash, like a peal of thunder, and darkness devours everything.
Her bed feels cold and hard against her back. She didn’t remember it feeling like this when she fell asleep. It had been soft, supportive when she laid back and-
The pills, she thinks vaguely. I think I…yes I took one of them. Then I lay down and…
Was it working…is it working? Am I asleep? Am I awake?
Eve exhales slowly. The sound comes out low and long, like air hissing from a grate. What…?
Is she dreaming or is she awake? Her mind feels hazy and slow, like she’s swimming through a liquid world. She takes another breath.
The same grate-hiss sound echoes out. Even breathing is a chore now, every action slowed and imprecise. The sensation is unpleasant and she wishes she was back asleep. Well if it didn’t work I guess I should get up…
Eve tries to move, and hears it.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
The telltale sound of metal against something hard. Close to her.
What was that?
Eve takes another breath. Now that she notices it, the hissing seems close too. Too close.
Am I awake?
She tries to move again, cringing at the loud scraping metal. It’s still difficult to move but focusing makes it better. Just breathe. Everything is fine. It has to be.
Eve takes another breath as her eyes crack open.
This isn’t her bed. This isn’t her house. She doesn’t know where she is.
A rush of fear stops Eve’s breath in her throat as she moves her head up from the cold stone floor, just enough to see. She opens her mouth and starts to say something, to ask where she is, to call out in case anyone can hear.
A tinny, low voice growls out: “Where am I?”
Eve falls silent, her shock rooting her in place.
Is that…my voice?